This is the digital version of Snail Spells, minus the zines. Each month, I type up the newsletter (more of a personal log, let’s be real) on my manual typewriter, and photocopy everything at my local public library. Snail Spells is the most organic, and comfortable, thing I’ve ever done. In this transcription/digitization of the Snail Spells newsletters, I have only edited spelling. The rawness (and lack of editing) has been preserved. If you’d like to receive Snail Spells monthly delivered to your physical mail box, become a member on Buy Me A Coffee.
September 4th 2025
Moon in Aquarius
This morning I started my day with a typical ritual of walking to my post office to mail correspondences. I live quite close by, so it’s only about a 5 min walk, which sometimes I’ll extend into something longer by getting coffee or stopping by the free mini library.
It’s early September, and Autumn is starting to flirt with us, through cooler mornings that lead into deceptively hot days, and shorter and shorter days. When I arrived at the post office, I found myself experiencing a very specific sense memory. Something about the smell of grass and dandelions in the shade, not yet touched by the sun; the feel of walking towards double doors; something about the way my shoes felt on the concrete, the cool ground still holding the chill from the evening. I felt, for just a moment, like I was on my first day of school after a hot summer.
Every year, school supplies hit the shelves, and I have this intense feeling that I should be getting stocked up, prepared for my year ahead. A feeling that I should be returning to a place of structure, organization, pencils, pens, loose leaf lined paper. That I should be returning to a mindset of education and knowledge. I resist the urge to buy school supplies, but this year I found myself wondering what it would be like if I let myself indulge in that sense of need and mild urgency to get organized by a certain date, and figure out a new schedule, and restock my art supplies and writing tools.
School typically starts in September, right in the domain of Virgo, the sign most affiliated with organization, perfection, the home, and earthly goodness (in a very pragmatic way). Virgo is pleasurable, but practical. Virgo feeds that desire to figure stuff out, get one’s proverbial ducks in a row, and start thinking about what’s needed as the seasons really start to shift. School starts in September because it is after the harvest, when farm and rural families need their kids’ assistance less (or so I’ve been told- I think this tracks because why else would be make kids go to school during the shortest and darkest months?) At this time of the year, right on the precipice of Autumn, we get organized, start to gather what’s needed for practical purposes and for comfort, all the while held by the oddly caring energy that is Virgo.
My 5 year old nephew just had his first day of Kindergarten. He’s a Gemini, and I have no doubt that he’s going to have a good time in school. But between this kid I know starting a new chapter where every year is exciting and a landmark, and the “gotta get ready for school” narrative that is hardwired into my brain, I am also thinking a lot about new beginnings, and the Fool card.
The Fool is the card of fresh starts, new beginnings, excitement, and unbridled curiosity, with a big “just try” kind of attitude. Eden Gray describes the general meaning of the card as “a choice is offered” and interprets the card as “represents the beginning of creativity and the desire to accomplish impossibly beautiful goals. Here are all the joys and possibilities of adventure. Each of us faces many choices in life. A fresh choice is before you- choose wisely.”
Looking at a new adventure or beginning as choice holds a lot of power. In te face of newness and possibility, we always have choice. We can look at it as an inevitability, but we can also choose to say no. Still, what happens if we say yes, to make the decision to try something new, and reevaluate where we are in our individual journeys?
Today the Moon is in airy and individualistic Aquarius, which encourages fresh ways of thinking, and radical free thought and expression. The shift from VERY grounded and practical Capricorn is palpable, but it does have me thinking about everything in less restricted ways. For the last month, I have been trying to develop a routine / schedule / habits to add more structure to my life, which is something I need (especially if I do wish to pursue certain goals), but I always need to remind myself that what works for one person won’t work for others, and there is no such thing as a one-size-fits-all solution. But sometimes pulling from pre-existing structures can be helpful.
Why don’t I work with the hardwired ‘back to school’ idea that is rooted in my brain? Why don’t I work more intentionally with each astrological season in order to get the most out of each cycle?
It’s all a process. My go-to phrase lately is “it’s all a rich tapestry.”
Whether you’re in the back-to-school mindset, feeling the VIRGO VIBES, or just continuing with business as usual, I wish you the very best.
Things I’ve Been Enjoying Lately
experimenting in my kitchen more. I made rose water, soy milk, and tofu. A friend gave me her tofu press and nigari (the coagulant used to traditionally make tofu). I learned that $2.66 in dried soybeans from Bulk Barn goes a long way.
listening to music albums front to back. My favourites lately have been GNX by Kendrick Lamar, Horses by Patti Smith, the Lion and the Cobra (I might have that backwards) by Sinead O’Connor. I’ve also been listening to Son House (delta blues) and Parliament (funk) again, which I’ve been enjoying. Being more intentional with my music listening has been feeling very rewarding.
home improvements. I’ve been starting to paint my house, which feels so good in so many ways. The first part I’m tackling is the kitchen, which I’m doing in manageable chunks. It is slowly being transformed from ugly browns and paint jobs that are more suited to a stage play set, to happy vibrant pinks and classic black. I recently hung up new art and rearranged my kitchen altar space, and it feels so good.
regular trips to the library, to check out books, make photocopies, or sit and drink coffee. Just a reminder that public libraries are amazing.
Snail Spells #2.2
October 18 2025
Requiem for the Raccoon I Killed with my Car
This month, everything I’ve attempted to write has felt thoroughly unsatisfying, and oddly unfinished. By my count, this is my sixth attempt at writing something. I have two finished essays before this, and I don’t know if either will ever be read by other humans (though my wife did read the first thing I wrote on September 17). Writing something that I wish to send out into the world has been, at best, a challenge.
Two nights ago, I hit a raccoon with my car. I can’t explain the quiet shock, the void, that grew in me when I saw a raccoon running across the road, or the horrified acceptance that I wouldn’t be able to stop, or otherwise prevent impact. We pulled over to the side of the road, and watched as fluids from our car flowed like black water onto the highway. It was dark, windy, cold. The unmoving remains of the animal lay on the road behind us. I wish I could have moved its body, but it wouldn’t have been safe. The only other time I’ve severely damaged a vehicle was when I hit a jack rabbit, and it pushed the radiator into the engine.
Small to medium sized animals can do a remarkable amount of damage. They can damage a car in a way that something like a deer might not. But I am grateful it wasn’t a deer, or even worse, a moose (which is always a slight possibility in my part of the world).
I keep thinking about the raccoons I feed as if they were stray cats. I keep thinking about the raccoon-dogs (tanuki) in my favourite Studio Ghibli film, Pom Poko. The movie is an ecological fable, in which a society of shape shifting animals are forced to adjust to the ever-evolving, ever-expanding, human world.
A great deal of my spiritual beliefs stem from ecology, and animism. Ecology is the science of / and the relationship between organisms and their environment. There is a fair amount of looking at the interconnectedness of living creatures, plants, habitat, ecosystems, etc. Animism is the belief that all living things have some type of spiritual essence. This type of belief is the core of many prehistoric and ancient beliefs. My own type of animism (or maybe the essence of my witchcraft and spirituality on a whole) is the belief that life and meaning flow through everything, and therefore everything has some type of spirit that connects it to something greater.
I do believe that every living thing has inherent value, and contributes to something in the world. Furthermore, I believe that everything is of nature, and never separated from nature. All of this is a big part of why I don’t eat meat. I don’t believe that my life as a human has inherently more value and importance than other animals. I can’t honestly say that I’d be able to hunt and kill an animal for food in survival situations, so I don’t believe that I should eat meat (especially if it means that an animal has suffered). I don’t profess to have all of the answers, or that my way is the right way (I have never been that dogmatic about my spiritual beliefs). I am enough of a realist to understand that all humans have different relationships to animals, meat, nature, etc. But because of my beliefs, killing that raccoon has put me in a strange place.
I am no stranger to death, especially the death of animals. With this raccoon, it may have been its time to die. No one can say when the time is the time for someone or something to leave this mortal plane. Was Death working through me? Was it simply the raccoon’s time? I don’t know. But why, raccoon, did you choose to cross then? You, an animal who is supposed to be so smart. You, the raccoon who is growing to the size of a bear in the memory of that night. Every time I remember it, you grow, bigger and bigger. You were already a beast by raccoon standards. And yet, you were so easily snuffed from existence, from this mortal coil.
Because of my beliefs, I don’t pretend to know what waits beyond the veil. I channel messages from there, and have communicated with and experienced beings from beyond. I accept this, but it has no bearing on whether I believe or know what exists in the After. Being able to connect with the dead and others in wherever/whatever does not give me comfort or confidence that there’s something after this. I hope there is, but it’s an area in which I remain totally agnostic. I just don’t know. The messages I channel have been helpful to others, and I think that’s enough for me. I know that everything must die, or change. Our bodies return to the earth, to nourish other things. We become a part of the soil, the insects, the animals. Through decay and decomposition, nothing is wasted. So, no matter what, there is meaning in death, even within the death of an otherwise “insignificant” animal. I mean, I’m writing about this dead animal. In some ways, I have granted this raccoon some type of immortality.
Edvard Munch said:
From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.
By the time that this will be in your hands, it will be Scorpio season, which corresponds to the Death card. Death, in tarot, is not an omen, but a reminder of transformation. Death is the ultimate alchemical transformation, in which our body changes completely. When Death arrives in tarot, it is often in the vein of a moth or butterfly, where there is some type of death in order for the animal to change from its youth self, to something more beautiful and free. Butterflies literally break down before they are reborn and transformed. This is an oversimplification, but it is a reminder that death is always painful and life-changing (literally), even if it is a good death. This year has been my Tower year, and it has come with a lot of intense transformation in its own right, and I am constantly being reminded MEMENTO MORI.
Halloween is when the veil is at its thinnest. It is a time to connect with ancestors and loved ones who have left the mortal plane. Samhain, the origin of today’s Halloween, is a reminder that death is part of life, and death must occur for rebirth to take place. Winter is the death of seasons, giving us space to heal and rest in the darkness. It is like the soil that holds the seeds and bulbs waiting for spring and the sun to return. It is all part of the cycle, and part of us.
Snail Spells #3
11/7/2025
Letting go of things, reconnecting with what matters, and building foundations: A reflection on the Tower
I write to you with one sore arm (the result of getting my covid booster) and my ears filled with Kraftwerk’s 1981 album Computer World. I actually followed through with getting a flu shot and covid booster this year (my hermit lifestyle usually leads to me forgetting). Since before Halloween this year, I have been reflecting very heavily on the themes of RELEASE / LETTING GO, which has also led me to thinking about The Tower card, and my Tower year. This has been a doozy of a year, but I do believe that every Tower moment has led to building stronger foundations, and making me stronger as a person. I really feel like I grew up this year. I’m 33, and for the first time in my life I kind of feel like an adult.
PART I. LETTING GO OF THINGS.
Nothing is meant to last forever. We are meant to grow, change, evolve, adapt. I regularly revisit something that one of my instructors at ACAD (ACU now? I don’t remember. When I attended it was an art college) said- “Everyone should leave home at least once.” In the eleven years since I graduated, I’ve returned to this. I don’t think it’s necessarily meant to be purely literal (though leaving home in any sense is important). I’ve been thinking about it more as a reminder or invitation to step away from what is familiar and comfortable, to expand one’s world view (and expand their personal world in general), so see what else is out there. Every time I see Harry Potter merchandize, especially when it’s purchased for adults or by adults, I think about how nostalgia can be a trap. There are some things that we refuse to let go of, because of how it once made us feel. So many of us cling to the past, especially our childhoods, as if the things we experienced and enjoyed when our brains were still developing is our one true gospel. Harry Potter is something that people refuse to grow out of, despite the fact that money from it directly supports anti-trans hatred (as a nonbinary trans person who is married to a trans woman, I have great umbrage with this. But let’s be real- everyone should care because trans people are simply human beings who deserve better treatment). We all have things that we’re nostalgic for, and nostalgia can provide a sense of comfort and security, but a lot of people do get lost in it. Growth is important, and that includes growing out of things. I remember feeling sad as a child, when a favourite pair of shoes or a piece of clothing would no longer fit me. But that meant I was growing, physically as well as emotionally, mentally, spiritually, etc etc etc.
A refusal to let go is a refusal to grow. A refusal to let go of things is the ego taking the front seat to say “this matters more than anything.”
This year has brought a lot of releasing. For the collective (all of us) the card of the year was The Hermit. The Hermit is a card of the dark night of the soul, spiritual growth, and expansion of the self. The Hermit leaves behind ego in order to pursue higher learning, true purpose, and true wisdom. The Hermit does not isolate, but chooses solitude in the pursuit of something greater. They also know that part of gaining wisdom is learning from others, and their experience.
Part of letting go is acceptance. To let go and release things, we have to accept that things will be better off, or the thing doesn’t serve us anymore, or it’s simply not our responsibility anymore. There comes a time where we just have to accept that we did everything we could, that it doesn’t fit anymore, that the other person needs to take responsibility. Whatever the case, acceptance that something is beyond our control, or that we’re not meant to do something anymore, etc., is a sign of massive growth.
PART II. RECONNECTING WITH WHAT MATTERS.
The other day I listened to / watched clipping. on NPR’s Tiny Des Concerts. I have never watched one of these before, but clipping. (a rap group from Los Angeles) is a musical trio I really like. The group is very experimental, with music influenced by horrorcore, cyberpunk, 90s techno… Their 2020 album Visions of Bodies Being Burned is one of my very favourite albums. It’s gritty, spooky, intense. I was interested in what they would do for a Tiny Desk Concert, and I was blown away. It was virtually an acoustic set (or pseudo-acoustic, or semi-acoustic?) of their music. To achieve the sounds they have from whatever electronic sources, they almost played foley artists, using all kinds of every day items and materials to get the right sounds. The jerry-rigged set up was breathtaking. Kid Koala made an appearance, and he played two turntables lie an instrument, not unlike a theremin.
Because I watched this concert, I was recommended a channel on YouTube called L’Atelier de Musique, where people DJ vintage records that are generally kind of obscure. The video I watched was a dj named BASIC who was playing “swinging grooves of the 60s and 70s”, with records from Soviet Russia. The combination of aesthetic, music, and this man in a polyester suit spinning records hit with me. This is the first time in a long time where I’ve felt truly inspired by music, to the point that I thought about dropping everything to see if I could make something. Music isn’t really my medium anymore, so I did opt to focus on my own artistry and mediums instead, but feeling that inspired by music again really unlocked something. I feel reconnected to a part of myself that likes collecting records, who tried DJ-ing at bring your own vinyl night when I lived in Calgary, who does have a soft spot for obscure musical oddities. I’m by no means the most experimental in the music I seek out, but I do listen to everything that interests me.
Music is something that my wife and I have always bonded over, ever since we met as teenagers. My wife does make music, and maybe I will return to it someday, but for now reconnecting with music, as well as other things, is really what I feel that I need. I wonder if reconnection is only truly possible after release.
PART III. BUILDING FOUNDATIONS.
Every year is ruled by tarot cards. This correspondence is determined by numerology. One’s personal card of the year is determined by taking their date of birth (month and day) and the year. For example, my birth date is April 12, so I would take the individual digits that make up my birthday for the year. 4/12/2025 for this year, or 4+1+2+2+2+5. This world out to 16, which corresponds to Key 16, or The Tower. The collective card is determined the same way, but only using the digits from the year.
The Tower is quite a doozy. A lot of people familiar with tarot will often agree that it is A BAD CARD. That is, of course, an oversimplification. Especially since, personally, I never want to enter into a year with the vibes of “Buckle up, everything is about to suck.” I’m by no means an optimist, but I’d like to believe that numerology and a tarot card aren’t actually going to send me into an awful year.
Of the Tower, Eden Gray writes, “Selfish ambition is about to come to naught. Conflict, change, unforeseen catastrophe. Old notions upset. Chance of bankruptcy. Overthrow of existing ways of life.
“DISRUPTION WILL BRING ENLIGHTENMENT IN ITS WAKE.”
The Tower is almost a card of chaos, upheaval, unforeseen changes. I chose to approach my tower year in a more pragmatic way- when a tower is damaged or destroyed, what should be done? One should repair and strengthen. Once should also consider what can be done to avoid future damage, like engineers building structures that can survive earthquakes. I chose to take every challenge as a way to strengthen my personal foundation.
Overall, I think this approach was quite effective. I did a lot more shadow work than I ever have before (I also understood shadow work for the first time ever- turns out that most writing about it were very unhelpful). Every time I encountered one of those “Tower moments” (times of chaos, big change, or any all around unfortunate or challenging time that required problem solving) I was able to learn, rebuild, and reconsider. My foundation has never been stronger, and it did come with a fair amount of ego death and looking at the part I play in everything. This taught me to actually hear tough truths, receive criticism in a better way than normal (i.e. not immediately getting frustrated and crying), and to actually recognize when I was at least part of the problem. WOOF. What a year. It has been a lot, but I feel more confident in moving forward. The self work never ends, but it can become easier. I am ready for my Star card year in 2026. I would love some chill healing. (Of course, life’s curveballs never cease. It would be boring without, even if we get sick of it)
What I have been checking out / enjoying / connecting with
FINCH, a self-care app with a silly bird friends. On paper, this app is embarrassing. I tend to want to cringe away from anything overly cutesy that promises helping me with self-care. But, enough friends were using it and speaking highly of it that I decided to give it a try. And… it has been helpful. I can keep better track of what I should be doing, while also celebrating small wins, like getting out of bed. I really like using it, and it’s kind of helped me use my phone less because I’d rather do nice things like needlecrafts, rather than playing phone games. I almost exclusively use my phone to talk to people now, which is kind of nice.
WE, by Yevgeny Zamyatin. My cousin gave me this book well over a decade ago, and now was the time to read it. It’s very, very, good. Dystopian novels are always fascinating, and the translation of this book is beautiful. I don’t read tons of fiction, but when I do it is often science fiction, or speculative fiction. Slightly unrelated, but I’m currently trying to figure out roughly how many books I have read, because I really don’t know. One of my friends made me feel a bit called out for how many books I have, asking me how many of them I’ve read. But the thing about libraries is 1) research libraries are not always books to be read back to front, and 2) Umberto Eco, for one, talked about how the anti-library, that one’s collection of books should be a monument to what they don’t know. Lately I’m growing tired of the ability to look up anything on my phone. Maybe I do just want to celebrate the mystery of the unknown, and the potential of what I will learn some day.
DANNY BROWN’S NEW ALBUM STARDUST. It came out today, and it feels like such a remove from his other projects, but it is very, very, good.
THE FAVOURITE, directed by Yorgos Lanthimos (2018). I have yet to see a film that is made by Lanthimos that I don’t like. The Favourite takes place in early 18th century England, and is about Queen Anne, and her relationships with two women. I’m not sure how much of it is factual, but I enjoyed it. I also appreciate the fact that the costuming budget was so small that they regularly took apart and reworked pieces, and used fabric from thrift stores.